Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Thea gasped at how the backs of her bare thighs sat upon the tops of his muscular ones. With her legs spread, her panties rubbed against her sensitive sex, the material teasing her as much as his closeness.
Draven sat naked under her, other than that small pair of briefs. The thin fabrics did nothing to calm the electricity bouncing between them. His clean, manly scent melted her brain. Lust simmered within her as she rocked her hips, finding a comfortable position to sit herself on the tops of his thighs.
Skin against skin, the timeless but unique and new sensation reminded her of poetry. Others may have a different interpretation of Draven, but she read between the lines of him.
His heart was a sunset of unexpected bubblegum pink, purple, and gold. His body was midnight—a time when decisions were hazy, and thoughts turned sinful. His soul was morning dew, detoxifying and protecting the delicate surfaces of anyone he cared for, making them shine.
Straddling him, Thea circled her arms around the back of his neck, their faces so close. She shivered over him as his fingers trailed the sides of her thighs, moving under her dress. She swore her pores and goosebumps rose to create some type of braille to entertain him, to tempt him into touching her forever.
He said something, moving his lips. She could not tear her gaze from his mouth.
His warm thumbs continued swiping up and down the sides of her thighs as she settled on top of him.
At the touch and the sensual position, her breasts ached; the tips tightened and peaked for him. As her legs happily enjoyed Draven’s rough yet smooth fingertips, the rest of her body lit up with jealous competition. Her lips yelled, “ Touch me! ” Her breasts whimpered, “ Me next .”
There was not enough time in the world for Draven to appease every part of her—not with every fiber of her wanting him this badly.
Sitting there, they breathed heavily, staring at one another as if they had finally reached the top of a mountain they had climbed for a while. Oxygen was thinner at this altitude, but the view … Would he kiss her? Could she kiss him?
He just got done saying he hated how everyone saw him as a piece of meat, yet, she was ready to grind herself on his hard, toned thigh.
Eyebrows furrowed, Draven leaned in closer and licked his lips. She hoped her answering whimper was not too loud.
He moved his hand up her sides, up her waist. His palms traveled over the sides of her breasts and continued moving up, not pausing even when she silently begged him with her eyes to cup her there. Finally, he held her face in his hands.
With a mesmerized and hungry expression, Draven dragged his thumb over Thea’s lip. Such a soft, slow caress, the action occurred in slow motion. He released a ragged breath, and a tortured, pining look claimed his face.
He pressed his finger firmly into the dip of the middle of her lower lip. Then, he retracted his hand to tap his own lip, as if unknowingly signing, “ May I kiss you? ”
Stunned, she blinked but remained in a trance too deep to respond with anything other than a hitched breath in the back of her throat.
He did it again, painstakingly slowly. He tenderly touched her lip then touched his. Those hypnotic eyes asked a silent question, “ May I kiss you? ”
Then, he rubbed his palm flat against his chest in a circle. “ Please ,” he signed. He bit his sensual lip and rubbed another circle with his hand. “ Please .”
He is signing to kiss me . How could she possibly say no? Tilting her head up and down, she jerkily nodded. She would have blinded him with her green hue if she were a traffic light. Kiss me, please .
His jaw ticked, and his eyes narrowed onto her lips. One of his wide palms sank around the back of her neck and cupped her there, dominant fingers sliding into her hair.
Kiss me , she silently whispered.
He brushed his forehead to hers, taking his goddamn time as he cradled the back of her head and flattened his other hand over her spine, gently guiding her forward. His patience reminded her of the film crew mindset: hurry up and wait .
Kiss me .
He hesitated, pursing his lips.
Her hands shot out, grabbed his neck, and tugged him to her.
Contact .
Softly, smoothly, their lips joined and pressed and mingled. Exploring and conquering. Like a scene in a silent movie where the couple kisses and where the screen fades to a single word like “ Smooch .” Except their screen should have said, “ Magical. Spellbinding. Bewitching .” Draven’s mystical lips would have been hung at the Salem witch trials in the 1600s. Burned at the stake for their enchanting sorcery.
His kiss felt like Halloween, which—to a fan of horror—made Thea climb further into his lap. He was the feeling of dressing up in a costume and being whoever you wanted. He was the hypnotic golden flicker of candles in pumpkins carved with crooked smiles. He was forbidden candies melting in her mouth well after midnight.
He sucked on her bottom lip before dragging his teeth over it.
Yes .
Because suddenly, the magic of the gentle kiss became dark. Thrilling. Salacious. They sold their souls to each other, knowing the buyer could be trusted. His fingers curved around the side of her throat. His palm rested on her collarbone as his hand acted as a leash, keeping her there. Held hostage by the kiss.
His rough lips surpassed intoxicating to become searing. Demanding. Primal. Claiming.
The curve of his mouth transformed her into a thousand-pound anchor, and she sank into him instantly. Lost at sea. No amount of wax could have clogged her ears and prevented her from becoming a victim to this male siren.
Or maybe he was some kind of incubus, feeding off of her soul with each movement of their lips.
Because she couldn’t stop fusing their lips together. She couldn’t stop sipping on his mouth like it was a fine wine, aged to perfection just for her and her alone.
Want him. Need him .
Her thighs quivered over him. Her pussy grew slick as it hovered an inch away from the bulge of his briefs.
There will never be anyone else I will want this badly .
Her hips began to rock.
Draven’s heart beat wildly out of his chest. Kissing Thea was either body-awakening or bad for his health. The kiss began as warm and relaxing as a cup of coffee—now, the heat of it burned his tongue, and the caffeine-like feeling it inspired infiltrated his bloodstream. Her breathy little intakes and whimpers in the back of her throat drove him to the brink of insanity.
Wren will kick you out of the band , he reminded himself.
She sucked on the tip of his tongue, and his groan vibrated his chest against hers. Want to rip that dress from her and suck and lick and make her scream .
Shit, he was losing control. He had not had sex since a few days before she moved into the apartment, over a week ago. He had been too busy thrusting into his fist at the thought of Thea’s mischievous smiles and twinkling eyes.
She is kissing me , he thought and felt his chest inflate; pride and happiness acted like helium. She is kissing me .
He wanted to consume her, so even when she inevitably walked away, he would still have a piece of her.
Cursing, he grabbed her hips and squeezed, stilling her movements just as she began undulating and grinding dangerously close to his growing erection.
Wren will kick you out of the band.
Screw. Wren.
Wrenching his lips from hers, he grunted at seeing her dilated pupils and puffy, well-kissed mouth. “Baby, this is beginning to escalate,” he warned aloud, hoping she could somehow understand him.
She purred and rubbed her cheek against his, maneuvering their lips to lock again. Seeking and teasing and possessing.
Her taste is perfection .
Pulling away again, Draven closed his eyes and groaned. His cock pulsed violently under her. All he had to do was lift her skirt, and he could grind her soft pussy over his shaft, pleasuring them both. Even now, she rubbed her chest against his, her needy nipples poking through the fabric of her dress.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now, do you?” he asked, his voice embarrassingly hoarse. Thank God she can’t hear me .
She moaned and wiggled on his lap, rubbing her breasts firmly against his chest.
“Fuck, baby, rubbing up against me…” He kissed down her neck, unable to keep his mouth off her magnetic skin. “You need it that bad?”
One of her palms fell to grope his chest. She rocked her hips again, seeking out something stiff to grind against her. Her little clit probably swelled for his touch. She leaned back just enough to sign with her free hand, “ Please .”
Resistance. Shattered. Maybe she heard it break because Thea moaned and churned her hips in a silent plea.
Draven, ever the thoughtful gentleman, shifted forward on the couch, jostling the woman in his lap as he repositioned so her legs wrapped around his waist, and she laid her pussy over his stiff erection.
His hands fooled with the skirt of her dress, bunching it up her legs as he slid his palms under and cupped her ass through her panties. He had to hold onto her for balance after all—to ensure she did not fall off him. Just being mindful. A loud moan vibrated deep in his chest as his fingers bit into the swell of her delicious backside.
She surged her hips forward, rocking against him and creating an unreal, mind-blanking friction.
He cursed under his breath again as he kissed the side of her neck, her earlobe, and her chin. “You have to tell me what you want, Thea.”
She breathily moaned and wriggled over him again, seeking the perfect alignment.
“Fuck, what do you want from me, huh?”
Another sexy twist of her hips.
“You want this stiff cock?”
“ Mmmmm .”
“You want me to fuck you, baby?”
Not knowing what he said, she rubbed her flat palm over her chest in a circle. “ Please ,” she signed again, lost in lust.
“Baby, you never need to say please again,” Draven rasped. “You tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you. Always.”